Page 81 of Harper

“Forgiveness is no easy feat, kids. It’s work. It’s hard. It takes mindfulness and intent. As far as I can tell, there are six steps to forgiveness,” she says, taking two envelopes from her purse and handing one to each of us. “I’ve written them down. Just in case you’re interested.”

Joe scoffs, shoving the envelope in his back pocket and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Neither of you is blameless here. You both did the deed that got Harper pregnant that first time, and both of you lost something.”

First, she looks at me. “One of you almost lost her life.”

Then, she looks at Joe. “The other lost the chance to have a voice in the matter.”

She sighs. “But as far as I can gather, that child is being raised with care and love. You’ve lost time, yes, but when you get to my age, you’ll realize that nine years—while almost a third of your lives—is only an eighth of mine. It’s not that much. You two didn’t even meet until third grade, and you’ve been the single biggest influence on each other’s lives ever since.”

I hadn’t realized it, but Gran’s right. Moriah Raven is in the same grade now that we were in when we met. A bowl cut and a Monster’s Inc. lunchbox. The memory almost makes me smile.

“There’s most of a lifetime left to get to know your first child when she’s ready,” she says. “And there’s a whole lifetime ahead to get to know your second.” She lets those words sit with us for a moment before continuing. “You’re both hurt. You’ve betrayed each other in ways you never imagined possible and still can’t believe. It’ll take a lot of work to get yourselves to a good place—a lot of understanding, of trust rebuilding and forgiveness, but I never knew two people who had as much love between them as you two. Don’t kid yourselves that it’s suddenly gone because you’re angry with each other. It’s still there, and if you can hold onto it, you just might be able to find your way through all of this.” She sighs. “Because bringing a baby into the world is tough enough without their parents being at each other’s throats.”

I never knew two people who had as much love between them as you two…don’t kid yourselves that it’s suddenly gone because you’re angry with each other. It’s still there…

Gran’s words hook into my heart like a lure into the mouth of a trout. They pierce flesh. They hurt. I want them to be true, but I’m not sure they are.

“That’s all I have to say.” Gran looks up at the sky. “I hope that was okay, Sarah and Emily. God knows I’m no therapist, but I tried my best.”

To Gran’s left, Parker exits the hospital building, holding a tray of coffee.

“I’ll give you a minute alone. Park and I’ll be waiting inside.”

Gran walks toward my sister, putting her arm around the shoulders of her middle granddaughter and leading them both back inside.

Joe and I sit on the bench, neither of us moving.

“Your grandmother’s speech doesn’t change anything,” says Joe, arms still crossed over his chest. Stubborn. Belligerent. Angry. “Not for me.”

“I didn’t set out to hurt you,” I say. “That was never my intention.”

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions, Harper.”

Ouch. I guess I’m headed to hell.

His quick dismissal raises my hackles.

I’m sorry Joe is hurt. I’m so sorry I hurt him.

But at some point, I’m going to get sick of saying it.

The more I think about it, the more certain I am that I made the right choice all those years ago…and I’ve been thinking about it a lot over the last three weeks. It hurt me when Joe called me selfish—when he said that I’d made the right choice for me, but not for him or Raven. And maybe it wasn’t the right choice for him. But I truly believe it was the right decision for her.

When Raven was born, Joe and I were college students, and neither of us had a mother still alive to support us. Joe, in fact, had no parents around to support him. Who exactly would’ve raised Raven on a day-to-day basis? His aunt, who worked full-time at the school? No. Sandra, who was already a very young teen mother with two babies? No. And on my side? Who? My father and grandparents, who already had their hands full with three kids under ten and a business to run? No, again.

This isn’t the first time that Joe’s big, beautiful ideas of what he wants trap him in tunnel vision. He gets fixated on the way he wants things to be and loses perspective about all the other variables around him that matter.

Neither Joe nor I were ready to be parents.

The Calvins, on the other hand, gave Raven everything I could have dreamed of for my daughter—so much more stability, attention, and opportunity than twenty-year-old Joe could have given her on his own, no matter what he thinks now.

“Okay, Joe,” I say, standing up. “Hell, it is.”

“Where are you going?”

I turn around. “Inside to meet the doctor.”

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